


how lucky i am

by asunamayo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Time Skip, Sort Of, Swearing, light alcohol use, very minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asunamayo/pseuds/asunamayo
Summary: “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”Suna Rintarou had been 5 when he first heard those words, and he was immediately entranced. The words planted themselves in his mind at that naive age and there they stayed, so stubbornly rooted that even years later he thought there had never been anything more profound.But then Miya Osamu walked into his life, and Suna started to wonder whether it was luck or misfortune that had brought them together.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 82
Collections: SunaOsa





	1. goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by my favorite Winnie the Pooh quote: “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” I discovered it last year, and it really changed my perspective of loss and my outlook on life in general. I hope it’ll move you as well!
> 
> If you like using music to set the mood, I’d recommend listening to Lose Somebody by Kygo and OneRepublic. I think it’s pretty fitting :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

Suna Rintarou had been 5 when he first heard those words, and he was immediately entranced. The words planted themselves in his mind at that naive age and there they stayed, so stubbornly rooted that even years later he thought there had never been anything more profound.

It was around 16 that he began to actually understand that sentiment, as a boy whose eyes he thought held the world seemed to see the world in his. At 16, Suna thought, _maybe_ if he could have this boy for the rest of his life, then he would be the luckiest person on Earth.

18 was a turning point; Suna was older, more mature, and closer than ever to having the world he wished for. But by then he had also experienced loss and disappointment, and he knew better than anyone that he despised those feelings. 18 was when Suna realized that having the world in his arms came with the risk of losing the world, and doubt and worry made a home in his thoughts.

And at 21, that fear drove Suna to close the door on the dream he had been chasing. At one moment, he was standing face-to-face with the boy who had just bared his heart for Suna to see. At the next, he was turning and leaving the boy behind, a painful “no” to the confession Suna had waited so long to hear.

Lucky? No, it was just the opposite.

It was a curse to have something— _someone_ —that would make saying goodbye so hard, and it scared him. It scared him to even think about losing something that meant so much to him, so Suna made sure he would never have the chance.

An end needs a beginning, and you can’t say goodbye if you never said hello.

* * *

Sweat and determination.

It’s a smell Suna knows all too well, one that has seemed to coat the floors of every volleyball gym he has entered in his 25 years of life. (He’s sure he reeks of it, too.)

And here, in the gym where Japan’s esteemed National Volleyball Team practices, the scent is stronger than ever.

Stepping onto the court, he eyes the team banner strung across the far wall for a moment before turning to scan the room. It’s become a routine of his: a quick yet meticulous search for anything that could potentially jeopardize his play, from minor dents in the floor to spots that look more slippery than others. After a couple minutes, he exhales in relief and starts towards the locker room with a little less tension in his shoulders.

Suna isn’t timid, but he is a guarded person, and it’s always just the slightest bit unnerving practicing in an unknown place for the first time. In fact, there had only been one time in the past when he had walked into a first practice completely at ease.

But he can’t afford to think about that right now. Shaking his head to dispel the memory from his mind, he turns the corner into the locker room.

“Oh? Fancy seein’ you here! Did’ja miss me, Sunarin?”

With that, the little bit of calmness Suna had just attained disappears. From the bench directly across the doorway, Miya Atsumu grins up at him.

“Not in the slightest,” Suna retorts, setting his bag down, “You won’t stop texting me, Atsumu. I couldn’t miss you if I tried.”

“Yer so mean to me, Sunarin~ Did’ja do yer ‘pre-practice inspection ritual’ or whatever yet?” The borderline mocking tone in Atsumu’s voice earns him a glare from Suna, but the former continues, “I don’t see why you have to even do that today. It’s not like you don’t know anyone. You know me and Komori and… and Aran! It’s pretty much the same as yer first day at Inarizaki!”

And just like that, the memory that Suna has been trying so hard to repress bubbles back up to the surface.

“Well,” Atsumu considers, “I guess it’s not _just_ like that day.”

Suna briefly contemplates pushing the other off the bench to shut him up. But before he can, Ojiro Aran’s hand lands on his shoulder.

“Suna! Long time no see! How’ve you been?”

“Aran, we played your team just last month.” Suna sighs, letting Atsumu off the hook. “I’ve been good, I guess. Just lots of practice. You?”

“Hey!” Atsumu jumps to his feet in protest. “How come you ask how Aran is but not me?”

“Because I actually respect Aran. And because you give me regular life updates even if I don’t ask.”

“You sure respected me when ‘Samu and I pulled off that freak quick during the Karasuno match.”

“Yes. I felt a smidge of respect for you over a decade ago and not an ounce since then.”

“Why you—”

“Hey, hey now,” Aran interjects as he slides in between an insulted Atsumu and a smirking Suna, “Let’s all just appreciate this chance we have to play together again. And on the Japan National Team!”

At that, Suna smiles, small but genuine. As much as he teases his friends, he really does care for them (whether he’ll ever admit it out loud is a different question). With the bittersweet memory of his time at Inarizaki effectively suppressed, Suna lets his teammates sweep him into the gym for the start of their first practice.

* * *

“Hate” was a strong word.

At 15 years old, Suna thought it was far too intense of an emotion to describe the way he felt about most things in his life, and as such, the word never really made its way into his everyday vernacular.

However, if there was anything that Suna could say with confidence that he hated, it was public speaking. Even worse, public speaking _about himself_. And as he stood up to introduce himself in front of a sea of unfamiliar faces on his first day at Inarizaki High, that hatred had never felt stronger.

“Hello. My name is Suna Rintarou. I just moved here from Tokyo so I can play volleyball. I look forward to getting to know you all.” Short and sweet (and thankfully over with).

“Thank you, Suna. Please take a seat. Any open ones will do.” His teacher gestured around the classroom.

Suna nodded, taking a moment to scan the area before making his way down an aisle and slipping into an empty seat at the back of the room.

“Alright class,” his teacher began, “Today we’ll start off by reviewing yesterday’s lesson and…” And already Suna’s mind was drifting.

New town, new school, new team. Same first day nerves. Suna wondered if that feeling would ever go away.

As he absentmindedly flipped through the textbook, his ears tuned into the hushed conversation next to him.

“...into volleyball, huh? Maybe you’ll be playin’ with him then, Osamu.”

Suna snuck a peek. A boy with strikingly silver hair hummed in contemplation before responding, “Maybe. I guess we’ll see today at practice.”

“I wonder what position he plays. Setter?”

The silver-haired boy—Osamu—snorted. “If he did, ‘Tsumu’d throw a fit,” he said, later adding, “Actually that’d be entertainin’ as hell. I hope he does.” With that, Osamu glanced over at Suna, giving him a small smile when he realized they had locked eyes.

Suna looked away and refocused his attention on their teacher. _Osamu_ , he mused to himself. He didn’t know if it’d be important to remember the name.

He got his answer a few hours later when he bumped into the silver-haired boy outside of the gym.

“Hey! Suna Rintarou, right?”

“Yes, that’s me. And you’re... Osamu?”

“Yeah, Miya Osamu. How did’ja—”

“I, uh, overheard parts of your conversation in the classroom. And I’m not a setter, by the way.”

“Oh, whoops, sorry for gossipin’,” Osamu said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “But ‘Tsumu will probably be glad to hear that!”

“‘Tsumu?”

As if on cue, a shout rang out from inside the gym: “‘Saaaaaaammuuuuuuu! Get yer ass in here!”

“Shut yer trap, ‘Tsumu! Yer embarrassin’ us in front of the new guy.”

“New guy?” A blonde head ( _A terrible dye job,_ Suna thought to himself) poked out of the gym doorway. Suna quickly realized that the two in front of him shared the same face.

“Suna, meet my obnoxious, loud, objectively inferior twin,” Osamu announced, his eyes rolling ever so subtly.

The blonde shot a heated glare towards his brother before greeting Suna with a smirk, “Miya Atsumu at yer service. Best setter in all of Japan and definitely the better twin.”

Suna raised his eyebrows almost reflexively, and next to him, Osamu echoed his sentiment with a snort.

“Best setter, my ass, ‘Tsumu.” He turned to Suna with a smile, perhaps the most genuine one Suna had seen all day. “Don’t mind my brother. He’s a real idiot. Just stick with me, and you’ll be okay.”

And maybe it was because he was about to play volleyball or because the food he had for lunch had finally settled (or _maybe_ it had something to do with the silver-haired boy’s easygoing grin), but for the first time that day, Suna felt himself relax. With that, he returned Osamu’s smile and followed the two brothers into the unfamiliar gym, not an ounce of nervousness to be found.

* * *

Suna quickly learns that the National Team’s practices are much more strenuous than EJP Raijin’s.

With hours upon hours of spiking drills, serving drills, blocking drills, weight lifting, and cardio—not to mention the added pressure of having to fight for a starting position (something Suna hasn’t felt since his first year on EJP)—he’s being pushed harder than he has been in a while. And after three straight weeks of practice, Suna thinks that even the gentlest breeze could probably knock him over.

Collapsing onto a bench with a water bottle towards the end of a particularly tiring practice, he all but drowns himself in the cool liquid. When he finally feels like he can breathe again, he notices his coach approaching.

“Suna, you’ve been lacking power this week,” his coach says with a frown, “Is your wrist bothering you again?”

Suna sighs. “Yeah, a bit. Sorry, Coach. It’s been so long since I last felt pain that I didn’t expect it to be a problem. I guess it’s weaker than I thought.”

“Hmm, just be cautious. You know your body best. For now, I’ll have Iwaizumi draw up a new strengthening routine for you. Rest a little, and then go see him in the weight room.”

“Will do. Thanks, Coach.”

As Suna settles himself on the floor to stretch out, Komori drops down next to him.

“What was that about?” the libero asks.

“Nothing major. My wrist has just been acting up again. Coach wants me to go see Iwaizumi.”

“I mean, that’s reasonable. Good luck, though. Iwaizumi’s routines always kill me. I don’t know what he learned at that American college, but he always seems to overestimate what we can handle.”

Suna laughs. Komori wasn’t lying. The team’s athletic trainer was so fit that he seemed to forget sometimes that the rest of them weren’t on his level. ( _“Huh? What do you mean you’re dying? This isn’t even that bad!” Iwaizumi had yelled when Suna had forfeited his weights midway through his umpteenth set of bicep curls._ )

The two stretch in silence for a couple minutes before Komori speaks again.

“You know, you’re really coming into your own here.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

Komori smiles as he switches stretches, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “I mean you look at home here. I’ve seen you pretty much everyday for the past 6 or 7 years, but I’ve never seen you look more comfortable and in your element than you do now.”

“Excuse me,” Suna replies in mock offense, “You don’t think I look ‘in my element’ with EJP? I am a starting middle blocker, you know.”

A lighthearted laugh escapes Komori’s mouth. “Hey, you almost weren’t! Let’s not forget the absolute mess you were at EJP tryouts. You looked like you didn’t even want to be there. _I_ was concerned, and I barely even knew you that well!”

Suna bites his lip as he remembers that day. Old feelings of confusion and betrayal threaten to resurface, but he’s quick to dispel them. “Yeah, I was… distracted.”

Sensing the shift in tone, Komori glances over in concern. “Well… at least you’re doing better now. I’m telling you, you’ve really grown,” he says, smoothly transitioning away from the topic.

The other chuckles, grateful for his teammate’s astute observational skills. “You sure are sappy today. What’s up, ‘Mori? You dying?”

“Shut up, man.” And they both dissolve into laughter as they finish up their stretches.

As Suna walks towards the weight room to find out what kind of torture Iwaizumi has planned, he thinks back to Komori’s words.

_A lot of things have changed since then._

* * *

He wasn’t there.

Standing outside an unfamiliar gym in an unfamiliar city, an 18-year-old Suna checked his phone again. No calls. No texts. All he saw was a notification for the event that had been stressing him out for the past week.

_EJP Raijin Tryouts_

_Today at 2:00 PM_

His eyes shifted to the time. 1:56 PM. Osamu still hadn’t arrived.

Everything had seemed fine until now. They had traveled together from Hyogo the day before so that they could attend today’s tryouts for EJP Raijin, a professional Division 1 team— _together_ being the key word. After spending all of high school playing side-by-side on the court, Suna and Osamu had grown as inseparable as friends could be, and they intended to keep it that way.

That was the plan they had agreed on, and Suna couldn’t recall either of them deciding to stray from it.

With his fingers hovering over the keyboard, he replayed the conversation they had earlier in their hotel room.

_“”Tsumu asked me to pick something up for him while we’re here. Some game that’s sold out back home,” Osamu had said, rolling his eyes as he stepped out of their hotel room earlier that morning, “But don’t worry, Rin, I’ll just meet you there.”_

That had been over an hour ago. Suna hadn’t heard a word from Osamu since.

“Hey, kid!” a voice called out from behind him, “Are you planning to register? Tryouts are starting real soon.”

“I, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’ll register now.” Suna hastily typed out his 9th “Where the hell are you?” text to Osamu before he stepped up to the registration desk.

After receiving a number, he spared one more glance behind him and ventured into the gym, his hands slightly shaking from the realization that he’d have to face the most important tryout of his life alone.

The most important tryout of his life soon became the worst tryout of his life as well.

It was as if a sort of haze had settled in his mind. Everything was a little blurry, from the ball to the lines on the court to the blockers’ hands above the net as he spiked. His body was a half-step behind at all times, his brain in a different world completely.

And every so often, he found himself glancing at the door.

_Where was Osamu? Did something happen to him? Was he okay?_

Those three questions rotated through Suna’s mind as he blocked ball after ball and jumped for toss after toss. His inner monologue was so deafeningly loud that, when tryouts finally ended hours later, he couldn’t recall anything he had just done.

 _There goes my shot at making the team,_ Suna thought, shoving his hands into his pockets a little too harshly as he exited the gym. _What a failure. I trained for years_ — _no,_ we _trained for years. Hours of running, setting, spiking, blocking,_ especially _since we decided to both go pro. For what? For me to fuck up when it mattered most? And speaking of “we”..._

He was still talking to himself when a voice called out.

“Suna!”

Suna’s heart skipped a beat, and part of him hoped that he would turn to see a familiar head of silver hair bounding towards him.

Holding his breath, he peeked to the side. It wasn’t Osamu, of course. Suna mentally slapped himself for even considering the possibility. Osamu wouldn’t have called him “Suna” anyway. Sunarin, Rintarou, or Rin, sure, but not just Suna. Suna couldn’t remember the last time Osamu had addressed him that formally.

Instead, his eyes zeroed in on a different, albeit recognizable, face. Komori Motoya. Suna had talked to him a couple times before when Inarizaki had crossed paths with Itachiyama.

Mentally and physically exhausted from the wreck of a day, Suna briefly considered pretending he hadn’t heard the other and just continuing on his way. But Komori had always been kind to him, and despite being tired, Suna still had manners. (At least he usually did.)

So Suna just straightened up and forced himself to smile. All he could do was pray it looked genuine.

“Hey!” Komori chimed, slowing to a stop.

“Hey, Komori.” If the Itachiyama libero had seen through Suna’s facade, he didn’t comment on it. Suna thought he was in the clear.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. I heard from Sakusa that the twins were going pro, but I didn’t know you decided to as well.”

At the mention of the twins, Suna’s carefully constructed mask cracked slightly, and this time, a look of concern flashed across Komori’s face.

To stop the latter from probing deeper, Suna rushed into a reply. “Yeah, I didn’t even know myself at first,” he says, pushing down the wave of nausea that had hit moments before, “But halfway through last year, I realized there was nothing else I could see myself doing. So here I am.”

Komori seemed satisfied with his answer, the worry fading from his face. “That’s great! You were always such a formidable opponent. Half of my team was afraid to face you.”

 _They wouldn’t have been afraid if I played the way I did today_ , Suna thought bitterly.

“Nah,” he said instead, “Your team had no reason to worry. At least, not with you on the other side of the net receiving all of my spikes.”

“True!” Komori grinned proudly. “I guess that’s why we beat you!”

The pair laughed, the tension from earlier momentarily forgotten.

Still smiling, Komori checked the time on his phone. “Hey, it’s almost dinnertime! You want to grab something to eat? We should celebrate making it through our first pro tryouts!”

Suna considered it for a second. He knew he could use the distraction, a quick break from everything that he knew he would have to deal with when he found Osamu. _If_ he found Osamu. Suna frowned as he realized he still wasn’t sure where Osamu was.

And suddenly, that was all he could think about.

“Sorry, Komori, I have some, uh, stuff I need to figure out,” said Suna, the same strained smile from earlier making a reappearance, “Maybe next time.”

“Oh yeah, no worries! Next time.”

Komori looked like he might have wanted to say something else, but the uneasy feeling in Suna’s stomach had grown too intense to ignore. He knew he had to find Osamu _now_.

“I have to go,” he abruptly declared, “See you around, Komori.” Without bothering to wait for a reply, Suna turned on his heel and began his trek back to his hotel, only one thing on his mind.

_What the hell. What the hell. What the hell. What the hell._

Every step seemed to amplify his confusion and frustration, and by the time he stopped in front of their hotel room, the mess of incoherent thoughts in his mind was threatening to spill out.

As he fumbled with the room key, he heard faint shuffling inside of the room, and he knew Osamu was inside.

Throwing open the hotel room door, Suna finally exploded. “What the hell, ‘Samu?”

Osamu sat quietly on the edge of his bed. As he took in the pained look on Suna’s face, guilt swept across his face, and he stood. “Rin, I’m sor—”

“Don’t ‘Rin, I’m sorry,” me! Sorry isn’t going to cut it here! Where the fuck were you?”

“I—”

“I had to go through that tryout alone!” yelled Suna, interrupting the other again, “ _Alone_! You of all people should know how nervous I get in an unfamiliar space! ‘Don’t worry! We’re doing this together, Rin!’ You said that! You promised you’d be there next to me!”

“I know, Rin, pleas—”

“Do you?! Do you know?! Well then, do you also know how I did at the tryout today? Care to take a guess?”

Osamu just shifted uncomfortably.

“No? Let me tell you then. That was probably the absolute worst I’ve ever played. No, scratch that. That _was_ the worst I’ve ever played. The biggest 4-hour-long fuck-up in history of all fuck-ups, and all because I couldn’t get your damn face out of my head! Serves me right for being so concerned about someone who obviously isn’t concerned about me.”

“Rin, don’t say that. You’re my best friend. You know that I care. Please let me explain.”

“You evidently don’t,” Suna spat venomously, “And you don’t get to try to convince me to forgive you. I’ll be lucky if they consider me for more than a second. How’s it feel to know you single-handedly ruined my pro-volleyball career? Does it feel nice? You happy now? And what the fuck, ‘Samu, I thought you wanted this, too!”

Osamu clenched his fists. “I thought I did.”

“You thought? You _thought_ ?” Suna’s rage was uncontrollable. “It didn’t seem like it was just a thought to me. ‘Oh, maybe we should get ice cream today’ is a thought. ‘Maybe I should buy a drink from the vending machine’ is a thought. ‘Yeah, Rin, I really want to go pro, too! Let’s practice a lot so we can do well at our first tryouts after graduation. We got this!’ is a _plan_. Or in this case, I guess it was just a lie. You a liar now, ‘Samu? Or maybe you always were.”

“I just don’t love volleyball the way you do, Rin!” Osamu shouted. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to compose himself before meeting Suna’s gaze once more. “I never will.”

Suna’s eyes widened, and his body went numb. “Stop. Don’t say that. Don’t say things you don’t really mean.”

Osamu sighed, the fight leaving his body. “I didn’t want this to be the way you found out, but I might as well just say it.”

“Say what, ‘Samu?” Suna choked out.

“I’m not goin’ pro.”

“You’re… not… going… pro…”

“I’m not.”

“…Why?”

“It’s… a long story,” Osamu confessed, sitting back down on the bed and staring at his hands, “Ever since we were young, goin’ pro was always ‘Tsumu’s dream. And then it became yer dream. Bein’ around you two… I guess I convinced myself it was my dream, too. Maybe it was because I knew everyone expected me to go pro with ‘Tsumu, or maybe it was because I knew I was good at volleyball so it felt like a safe choice… I really don’t know. Whatever the reason, I tried so hard to believe that a future in volleyball was what I wanted. But a little part of me always doubted it, no matter how hard I tried to suppress those thoughts.”

He looked up at Suna, his eyes searching for the latter’s face for any hint of a reaction, but Suna was still too shocked to respond. After a few moments of silence, Osamu took a breath and continued.

“You asked me if I was a liar. Honestly, I was. But I wasn’t lyin’ to _you_ , at least not advertently. I was lyin’ to myself, tryin’ to convince myself that what I was doing was actually what I wanted. But you can only feed yerself lies for so long before you don’t even recognize yerself.”

“And that’s—you couldn’t recognize yourself anymore?” asked Suna quietly.

“I couldn’t. I was followin’ someone else’s dream. Over these past few months, every time you or ‘Tsumu would ask to practice, I would feel my stomach flip. It was only later that I realized that feeling was dread. And at first I didn’t know why I was feelin’ that way, especially because I had always enjoyed volleyball. But the one thing I did know was that I shouldn’t be dreading something that I supposedly wanted to pursue for a career.”

“I don’t understand, ‘Samu. You’re telling me that all this time we were practicing, your heart wasn’t in it? You were just forcing yourself?”

“No—well, ye—it’s complicated. I did enjoy playin’ and practicin’ with you and ‘Tsumu. And I do love volleyball, just in a slightly different way.”

“Just not in the way that makes you want to spend the rest of your life playing.”

“Yeah.” Osamu smiled sadly. “Not in that way. When I finally came to terms with that, I felt like a weight had lifted. I realized that it was actually that act of forcin’ myself down that path that was makin’ me dread playin’. I knew if I didn’t make a change, I would eventually be stuck doing something that I didn’t love at all anymore.”

“I see.”

“I still don’t know exactly what I want to do with my life, maybe I’ll go into the food industry, who knows. But, Rin, I feel so much better now.” He beamed, genuinely happy for the first time that evening. “At last, I don’t have to be a liar anymore.”

“Yeah.”

Silence washed over the pair, and Osamu looked down at his hands nervously, his smile fading. “Is that—do you understand, Rin?”

Suna felt like his head was swirling, and he sucked in a breath to try to steady himself. “I don’t know,” he said finally, “I don’t know what to think.”

“Ah…” Osamu nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry. I just need some time.”

“S’all right. Take all the time you need.”

And they both fell into silence once more. Minutes passed, maybe even hours, yet there they stayed, sitting side-by-side each absorbed by their own thoughts.

When the sun fully set, and darkness engulfed the room, Suna finally snapped back to reality. He fiddled with his phone, the screen illuminating to reveal the time: 8:53 PM. Almost two hours had passed since Suna returned, and he still had no idea what to say.

He stood, and Osamu turned to eye him expectantly. “I’m going to take a shower” was all Suna said.

With that, he walked to the bathroom, carefully stepping one foot in front of the other as if one wrong move would shatter his already fragile state of mind. His mind barely registered Osamu’s faint promise to order some food, but he felt himself nodding in acknowledgement.

The moment the door closed, emotions that Suna didn’t even realize he had been holding back surged to the surface, and he slumped under their weight.

 _Why?_ _Why was this happening?_

He and Osamu were supposed to go pro together, to be on the same team, to remain permanent fixtures in each other’s lives. That was the plan. Their plan.

Suna dug his nails into the palms of his hands, willing himself to move. As he crossed the bathroom to the shower, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. His eyes traced the contours of his own face, and he was hit with a frightening thought.

 _Who was he without Osamu at his side?_ It had been so long since he had been without him that he didn’t remember.

He continued to stare, his gaze now following the lines and edges of the mirror itself and coming to rest on a jagged crack in the bottom corner. The room’s reflection in the mirror appeared distorted around the fissure, the image no longer perfect.

And at that moment, Suna thought maybe the future he had envisioned and longed for—one he thought he was planning with Osamu—was cracking just like that bathroom mirror.

Not quite as infallible as it used to be.

Suna stayed in the shower for longer than usual, letting the heat and steam drown out his worries. When at last he emerged from the bathroom, he wordlessly surveyed the food Osamu had set out and took a seat.

From across the table, Osamu’s eyes bore holes into the top of his head, but Suna couldn’t bring himself to look up. So instead, he just accepted the plate of room service food that he had no appetite for and forced himself to eat.

The rest of their evening unfolded in a similar manner, the two moving soundlessly around the room as they took turns getting ready for bed. Though lines of worry creased Osamu’s forehead, he didn’t dare speak up, and they sank into their separate beds without saying another word.

Pulling the covers up around him, Suna exhaled. His day had been far too exhausting, both mentally and physically, and he wanted—no, he _yearned_ for the numbing comfort of sleep.

Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come too easily.

After what felt like hours of trying and failing to silence his mind, Suna gave up, opening his eyes to stare down the darkness.

_Osamu._

Suna’s heart rate sped up as the name flashed in his head, and he clenched the sheets tighter. He knew he still needed to process the events of the night, so as he listened to the steady breathing coming from the other bed, he surrendered his mind to thoughts about Osamu.

_Osamu, who had been the first to make him feel welcome at Inarizaki. Osamu, who always knew how to comfort him when he was stressed. Osamu, who made him feel like he’d never have to face anything alone ever again._

_Osamu, who didn’t want to play volleyball anymore._

Suna shivered. The very thought set off warning bells in his head. It was something he never saw coming, and he wasn’t sure how to move forward into this new future. A future in which Osamu’s path no longer ran parallel to his, diverging instead.

But if he were to be truly honest with himself, what really frightened him was something else. The events of the day had shown Suna a different side of his personality, a side he had never seen before. He had always prided himself on his emotional control, so he was alarmed not only by how easily he lost it but also by how turbulent his mental state had become.

The sheer intensity and volatility of his own emotions chilled him to the bone.

And as he laid there deep in thought, Suna realized that it was _because_ he had been so close to having everything he ever wanted that this turn of events—this plot twist that had wrenched their story in an unforeseen direction—hurt even worse. He realized that the more he had, the more he also stood to lose, and panic swelled in his chest. But before it could overwhelm him, another truth took hold in his mind.

_Osamu, who, despite everything, was still the person he cared about the most._

That hadn’t changed. And at the end of the day, Suna knew in his heart that his friend’s happiness was paramount to everything else.

(And in the deepest, darkest depths of his mind, there remained one final thought that he hesitated to acknowledge.

_Osamu, who maybe, just maybe, he loved._

But that was an intimidating idea, so he proceeded to repress it before it became too real to ignore.)

From next to him, he heard Osamu shift, and Suna knew he was awake as well.

As if compelled by some unseen force, Suna slipped out of his own bed, crossing the floor and silently sliding into bed next to Osamu. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Osamu freeze for a second before turning his head to peer at Suna and waiting patiently.

They lay like that for a while, Osamu staring at Suna, and Suna staring at the ceiling. After a few minutes of quiet, Suna turned his head to meet Osamu’s eyes.

“Okay, ‘Samu.”

And with just those two words, Osamu’s entire body relaxed, his eyes closing in relief. Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Suna returned his gaze to the ceiling and shut his eyes as well.

By no means was this a resolution—not by a long shot. Suna’s mind was still plagued with worries and doubts, as well as the stinging pain of betrayal; he knew those feelings weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. But he could deal with that another day. For now, he let himself be comforted by the easy breathing of the man next to him and finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Suna was first offered a position on the Japan National Team, he knew he’d have a lot of responsibilities outside of just playing volleyball. He expected to be forced into meetings, PR opportunities, interviews, advertisements, maybe even television specials.

He did _not_ expect the parties.

But now Suna’s standing in the corner of a dimly lit room with a beer in one hand and phone in the other (already open to the Camera app for easy recording), having been dragged by his teammates to Bokuto’s apartment to celebrate the start of a week-long break.

“Hey, hey, hey, Sssuuna!” Bokuto yells over the music playing, his greeting slightly garbled by the alcohol already in his system, “You made it!”

“Bokuto, I’ve been here for the past thirty minutes.”

“Oh. Oops! Well, just let me know if you need anything!”

Suna knows that, with the way Bokuto was already starting to stumble, the latter soon wouldn’t be able to help anyone with anything. “Sure thing. Thanks again for hosting.”

“Of course!” Bokuto grins, and then his eyes widen as a new song starts playing. “Hey, I looove this song! Hinata! Dance battle me!”

“Dance battle?” the orange-haired boy asks, setting his drink down, “Oh, I get it! It’s for stamina! So we can build up our endurance and play better in matches!”

“Exactly!”

Suna rolls his eyes but holds his phone up to record as the two bound towards the middle of the room. But when his mind registers the familiar song playing, his smile fades.

_Rule number 1, is that you gotta have fun_

_But baby, when you’re done, you gotta be the first to run_

Suna’s stomach drops, and he doesn’t know whether to laugh at or curse himself for letting such a whimsical song get to him. In an attempt to suppress his unease, he studies the drink in his hand. _Get a hold of yourself, Suna. You’re being lame._

_Rule number 2, just don’t get attached to_

_Somebody you could lose_

Lame or not, Suna needs to get out of there. Spotting the vacant balcony, he downs the last of his beer and quietly slips outside.

The fresh air does wonders. Suna exhales, releasing tension in his shoulders that he didn’t even realize he was carrying. He rests his forearms on the railing of the balcony, and the chill of the metal helps to ground him as he remembers the first time he had heard that song.

_Suna had been 16. He and Osamu had set aside a whole afternoon to catch up on homework, music playing in the background as they worked (Atsumu had long abandoned them under the guise of wanting to go buy juice from the vending machine). At one point, “How to Be a Heartbreaker” by MARINA had started playing, and halfway through the song, Osamu had looked up at him with a playful glint in his eyes._

_“Hey, Rin. This song kinda reminds me of you.”_

_Suna’s mouth had dropped open. “What the hell, ‘Samu. I’m not a heartbreaker.”_

_“I dunno, maybe you could be,” Osamu had teased before the tone of his voice shifted. He had then spoken again, quieter this time, “But you’d never break my heart, would’ja Rin?”_

_“That’s a dumb question, ‘Samu. Of course, I wouldn’t. You’re my best friend.”_

_“Right,” Osamu had replied, a weird smile on his face, “Best friends.”_

_“...Anyways, we’re getting distracted. We agreed we would finish our homework for Monday, so we wouldn’t have to worry about it during our practice match this weekend. Let’s focus now.”_

_Without waiting for a reply, Suna had turned his attention back to his homework and pretended to not notice his heart beating just a little faster than it had a few minutes ago._

Back on the balcony of Bokuto’s apartment, Suna clenches his jaw.

He’s keenly aware that there are a lot of suppressed emotions and memories that he probably should unpack, but that’s for another day. For now, he just constructs more and more mental walls, imprisoning said thoughts in the deepest crevices of his mind.

Unfortunately, his peace is soon disturbed.

The balcony door slides open noisily, and from behind him, a voice whines, “Sunarin~.” Suna doesn’t have to turn his head to know it’s a slightly tipsy Atsumu. “Sunarin, come back inside! Yer being such a party pooper.”

On any other day, Suna would have probably shut him down with some sort of jab or tease, but tonight he doesn’t have the energy. “No,” he just mutters, “Leave me alone, ‘Tsumu. I’m not in the mood.”

“Huh? What’s up with you? Yer even meaner than usual,” the other remarks as he joins Suna at the railing.

“I just can’t stand that song.”

“What song?”

“That MARINA one that was playing.”

“MARINA… Wait, you mean that ‘heartbreaker’ one?” Atsumu laughs. “Oh c’mon, Sunarin. That might as well be yer theme song.”

If looks could kill, Atsumu would be dead on the floor right now.

“Woah, calm down. It’s not very nice to glare at yer lifelong friend!”

“If I agree to come back inside soon, will you leave me alone?”

“Stop trying to deny that you enjoy my company,” Atsumu responds, giving Suna’s shoulder a playful shove. But then he shifts his focus to the city skyline in the distance, and his tone softens a little. “You wanna talk about it?”

“About what? There’s nothing to talk about,” Suna replies evenly.

“You can’t fool me that easily, Sunarin. While I may not know everything that’s goin’ on with you, I know enough. I know that four years ago, ‘Samu called me sounding pretty devastated. And I know you stopped comin’ ‘round.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything happened.”

“I can put two and two together. I ain’t an idiot.”

Suna stares at him dubiously, and Atsumu, upon realizing, morphs back into his usual boisterous self.

“Hey! I ain’t an idiot! I was literally in the class above you and ‘Samu in high school!”

“Must have been a fluke,” says Suna, waving it off, “Even if it weren’t, that alone doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot.” _But it might actually mean I’ve been a bigger idiot than even you._

“Wow, y’know, I was gonna try to give you some nice friendly advice and comfort, and _this_ is how you treat me?”

“That’s funny, I don’t recall ever asking for advice, especially from you.”

“Hey, let’s not forget who’s single and who’s not, Sunarin. I snagged Omi, didn’t I?”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Sakusa Kiyoomi drags open the sliding door, assessing the two on the balcony before stepping out as well.

“Omi Omi, you decided to join us!” Atsumu looks over his shoulder and smiles, his expression softening at the sight of his boyfriend.

“Just because I wanted to check on you. It’s cold out here,” Sakusa murmurs, wrapping his arms around Atsumu’s waist and fitting his chin in the crook of the blonde’s neck.

“Gross.”

The soft smile falls off of Atsumu’s face. “Yer just jealous, Sunarin! You may be upset that whatever you had with ‘Samu didn’t work out, but can’t you be happy for others?”

“Not sure what you’re talking about. I never said I was upset.”

“You can’t just run away from things like this, y’know? You do that every time you have something to lose.”

“That’s such a lie, ‘Tsumu.”

“Is it? You did that in high school, too. You’d never call for tosses if you thought there was even the tiniest chance of yer spike being blocked.”

“...I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Suna replies stubbornly.

“Fine, be that way,” grumbles Atsumu, “I was willing to help you work through all yer shit with my brother, but if yer gonna be like this, I’m goin’ back inside. C’mon, Omi!” Shrugging out of Sakusa’s arms, he slides open the door and vanishes into the dim apartment.

Suna glances at Sakusa, expecting him to follow suit, but the latter simply closes the door and turns to face Suna.

For a second, Suna almost wonders if he’s about to get lectured. A mental image of Sakusa warning him, “Stop insulting my boyfriend, or I’ll spike the ball into your face,” flashes in his mind, and he has to stop himself from chuckling.

“You know,” Sakusa begins instead, “Atsumu’s right. I admit I’m not too familiar with the details of what happened between you and Osamu. Actually all I know for sure is that you two were inseparable for a good amount of time, and then suddenly you were strangers again. I kind of just deduced the general idea from that.”

Suna sighs. Was it really that obvious? “Sakusa, please don’t feel like you have to console or talk to me about this.”

“I know, and I’m not going to. But even I’ve noticed how you tend to shy away from things that could hurt you, so I just wanted to share one thing before I go.” His gaze flickers to the crowd of bodies inside before returning to Suna. “You can’t live your life waiting for the rejection that may never come. Sometimes these things require a blind leap of faith.”

This time, Suna can’t stop himself from laughing. “And you decided to take that leap with _Atsumu_?”

But Sakusa’s expression just softens, and a gentle smile breaks through his composed demeanor. “Yeah. I did.”

And then he, too, disappears into the lively apartment, leaving Suna more dazed than he had been when he first stepped outside.

* * *

“Rin? What are you doin’ here?”

A 21-year-old Osamu stood in the doorway of his apartment, one hand on the door knob and a puzzled expression on his face.

“What, I can’t visit my best friend?” Suna joked, lightly jabbing Osamu in the ribs on his way into the apartment.

“No, you can,” Osamu said suspiciously, as he rubbed the spot where Suna’s elbow had made contact. Seeing as Suna didn’t look like he was going to elaborate on his unexpected visit, Osamu dropped the topic for the time being. “You hungry? I’ve been tryin’ out new recipes for the restaurant all afternoon, so there’s a lot of food sittin’ around.”

“Starving,” Suna announced with a toothy grin, one specially reserved for Osamu, “You’re the best.”

“I better be. I am feedin’ you after all. Just make yerself at home for now,” he instructed, before eyeing Suna’s already sprawled out position on the couch and adding, “Not that you ever needed the invitation.”

Suna laughed. “Thanks, ‘Samu. As I said, you’re the best.”

After Suna had downed almost three full plates of onigiri, Osamu thought it was time to revisit his questions from earlier.

“Rin, what’s really goin’ on?” he asked, shifting in his seat to face Suna, “Why are you in Hyogo? I know it’s mid-season ‘cause ’Tsumu told our parents he wouldn’t be home for another six weeks. Doesn’t EJP have practice?”

“EJP does. I don’t,” Suna clarified, “Don’t worry, I haven’t been kicked off the team or anything. I’m just on, uh, medical leave?”

With Suna’s last two words, any last bits of confusion Osamu had felt were replaced by full-on concern. “Medical leave?” exclaimed Osamu, “What the hell did’ja do?”

“Nothing major. My wrist has just been bothering me a little. I probably sprained it a couple weeks ago.” Suna gestured to his bandaged right wrist.

“But a sprained wrist shouldn’t have been that big of a problem. You sure that’s all?”

“Yep.”

“Rin.”

“...Okay, I did sprain it a couple weeks ago, and then I _might_ have kept the injury a secret so I wouldn’t have to sit out of practice. I only told our coach yesterday because the pain flared up while trying to block a particularly hard spike. But it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Rin, what the hell!”

“What? I said, I’m fine,” repeated Suna, slightly taken aback by Osamu’s outburst.

“Maybe this time, but what if it happens again? You say yer fine now, but you could have not been! It could have gotten even worse!”

“It could have,” Suna said pointedly, “But it didn’t. Why are you raising your voice, ‘Samu?”

“I think I’m justified in raisin’ my voice when you go and do something like that. Hiding it was such a stupid thing to do.”

Suna bristled. “You need to calm down, ‘Samu. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Clearly not,” Osamu shot back, “You sure don’t act like someone who’s concerned about takin’ care of your body. And you say yer serious about a long-term career in volleyball.”

“I _am_ serious, ‘Samu.” Suna matched Osamu’s tone with a glare. “You don’t get to criticize me about my commitment to volleyball. Just fucking drop it already.”

“No, I’m not gonna drop it! You need to care a little more about yer body, Rin! What, are you gonna come home next time with a broken knee? Torn ACL? Do I need to prepare a fuckin’ wheelchair for ya?”

“Shut _up_ , ‘Samu,” Suna retorted angrily, “You’re being really unbearable right now.”

“ _I’m_ unbearable? Yer the one actin’ like a child! Refusing to take care of yerself? How immature.”

“What the fuck has gotten into you? Just let it go!”

“I can’t!”

“Why the fuck not?!” Suna all but screamed, “Why do you even care so much?”

A strangled sound escaped Osamu’s lips, and he ran his hands through his hair in frustration before his eyes met Suna’s.

“Because I love you!”

_And suddenly Suna was 5 again._

_He was 5, and he was sitting on the floor of his grandparents’ living room watching_ Winnie the Pooh _on VHS, unable to tear his eyes away from the yellow bear as it said, “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”_

_He was 5, and he smiled and said to his grandmother, “I hope I have that someday!”_

Now he was 21, and he stared blankly.

“You what?”

Osamu exhaled, his anger fading. “I love you, Rin.”

Suna’s head was spinning. “You… love me?” 

“You need me to say it again?”

“What? No, I just… Since when?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure?”

“I mean, I can’t pinpoint when it started. I just remember wakin’ up one day and realizin’ I couldn’t picture a future without you,” Osamu admitted, an almost bashful smile poking at his lips, “I want to spend my life with you, Rin.”

Suna was speechless. Osamu loved him. Osamu loved _him_. Suddenly, every fleeting thought he had ever had about what it would be like to spend the rest of his life with Osamu—thoughts that he usually suppressed as quickly as they appeared—resurfaced in his mind.

Pure, unadulterated joy swept over him, and for a moment, Suna felt like he was on top of the world.

But just for a moment.

Once the initial shock started to fade, his self-preservation tendencies kicked in, and the vision of a future together, the vision that had just brought him so much joy, began to make him anxious.

Suna had seen how unbelievably happy he would be in that future. He has seen himself happier than he had ever imagined he could be, and quite frankly that scared him.

_The more you have, the more you stand to lose._

The warning echoed in his ears, and all at once, he felt nauseous.

“‘Samu…”

He told himself he could survive losing Osamu now, as just a friend.

But Suna knew his feelings were already so strong that if he let himself fully love and be loved by Osamu, if he let himself really _be_ with him, that loss would shatter him.

For just a second, Suna allowed himself to wonder if they could last. Maybe, _just maybe_ , they could grow old together.

The second passed. Suna remembered that they were only 21, and they had already gotten into more arguments than he could count. They were already half-broken so really what were the odds? Whatever they had was strong and intense, but it was also the most dangerous thing Suna had ever encountered, and he was too afraid to risk it.

Too afraid to risk himself, too afraid to risk Osamu.

 _Call me selfish, or call me a coward_ , Suna thought, _It doesn’t matter. It won’t change what I need to do._

“We can’t do this,” he said.

“What? Why?” Osamu’s smile disappeared, and confusion took its place.

“We just can’t.”

A hardened look spread across Osamu’s face. “Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?”

“What? No.”

“You sure? Maybe I’m good enough as a friend but not as a boyfriend.”

“No! ‘Samu, you know that’s not it. You’re good enough in every way.”

“If I’m good enough for you ‘in every way,’ then what’s stoppin’ you? Tell me. Gimme one good reason why we can’t be together.”

“We’re… we’re both busy. You just opened your restaurant, and I’m traveling all the time for EJP. We’d have no time. It wouldn’t work.”

“That’s bullshit, Rin, and you know it,” Osamu spat, “It’s been like that for over a year now, and we’ve been fine. Or at least I thought we were.”

Suna clenched his fists, grief and frustration heating his insides. “You just don’t get it, ‘Samu! We’ve already lost too much. It’ll just continue hurting more and more.”

“Explain it to me then! What have we lost? We’re not even a ‘we’ yet!”

“We lost time, we lost opportunities, we lost…” Suna hesitated, unsure whether he should continue.

_Fuck it._

“…a whole future of playing volleyball together,” he finished.

Osamu’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Volleyball?” he asked, his voice escalating, “ _Volleyball_? Yer still hung up on that? God, Rin, that was like three fuckin’ years ago! I thought we were fine!”

“Yes, I’m still hung up on it! You promised me. You looked me in the eyes and said, ‘Don’t worry, Rin, we’ll keep playing together after high school,’ and, ‘Don’t worry, Rin, we’ve been practicing a lot, so we’ll definitely make the same team!’ And let’s not forget, my _favorite_ , ‘Don’t worry, Rin, I’ll just meet you there.’”

Guilt flashed across Osamu’s face, but Suna just forged on.

“See? There’s no future for us. We argue all the time nowadays. We yell. We swear. We scream at each other. You can’t deny that, no matter how hard you try. And if we date, that’ll just get worse and worse until it combusts altogether.”

“Are you really tryin’ to tell me yer turning me down for us? To ‘spare’ us?” Osamu challenged, finally finding words, “So what if we fight? Friends fight. Lovers fight. You fight, and you make up. You fight, and then you make things work in the end.”

“Not everything turns out that well, ‘Samu! This isn’t some fucking fairytale.”

“Well, I love you, and you love me. I know you do, Rin, whether you say it or not. Fairytale or not, we can have a happy ending.”

“Happy ending? Tell me, what are the odds of that? For every possible happy ending, there are hundreds more bad ones. How can you be so sure?”

Osamu opened his mouth to respond, but Suna knew that with each additional word Osamu said, it would just become harder and harder to deny him. So Suna didn’t give him the chance.

“You can’t, ‘Samu. No matter what you say you’ll do, what you say we’ll do, you can’t know that we’ll last. You can’t promise me that I’ll never lose you. And losing you after really _knowing_ what it’s like to have you would just… It would break me. And I’d never be able to recover.”

“...So yer tellin’ me that you’d rather lose us now than risk _maybe_ losin’ us later? Are you delusional? You sure the ball hit yer wrist and not yer head? That makes zero fuckin’ sense.”

“That’s fine. That’s absolutely fine. I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense to you. News flash, ‘Samu, it only takes one person to end a friendship.”

“Friendship, huh?” asked Osamu bitterly, “After everything we’ve been through, yer still callin’ this just a friendship?”

“Well that’s what it is, right? It only takes one person to end a relationship, but it sure as hell takes two to start one.”

Suna might as well have slapped him. Osamu stood, his face contorting in anguish, and Suna’s heart clenched. The battle between his heart and his mind raged on, but Suna was a logical person, and his mind always won in the end. Squeezing his arms to his sides to stop them from reaching out, he steadied himself and rose from his seat as well.

“That’s what I thought,” Suna stated, turning his back to the only person who had ever captured his heart. He started towards the door, but the pain coating Osamu’s next words froze him in place.

“I thought you said you’d never break my heart, Rin.”

Tears pricked at Suna’s eyes, almost as if the tears themselves were begging him to change his mind.

To no avail.

“Take care, Osamu.”

And with that, he walked away. Away from the apartment that had housed so many memories, away from the future his heart yearned for. Away from Osamu and the life they could have built together. His chest felt tight, but he didn’t let himself look back.

 _Every end needs a beginning_ , he thought. _But for them, there would be neither._


	2. hello

“...so do these exercises at least four or five times a week, and ice your wrist afterwards. Just in case,” Iwaizumi finishes explaining as he takes a seat next to Suna on a bench in the weight room.

Draping a towel around his neck, Suna nods. “Thanks, Iwaizumi. You’ve been a huge help these past few weeks.”

“I would hope so! That is my job after all.” The athletic trainer grins before glancing at the clock. “Wow, it’s already 5 PM? Sorry, Suna, I have to go now. Got plans to grab dinner with one of my old high school teammates. Don’t stay too long! Your body needs to rest.”

“No worries, I’ll leave soon. Have fun,” Suna calls out, and Iwaizumi raises his hand in a wave before disappearing around the corner.

Now alone with nothing to distract him, Suna slumps, the thoughts he had been able to ignore in Iwaizumi’s company coming back to hound him. A couple of weeks have passed since Bokuto’s party, but he still hasn’t been able to get his conversation with Sakusa out of his head.

With a groan, he eventually pushes himself off the bench and exits the weight room. Once outside, however, Suna pauses for a second, eyeing the route he would usually take home. Assessing the jumble of thoughts in his brain, he opts to turn and walk in the other direction.

He hopes the longer walk will clear his head.

As Suna admires the new sights and scenery, Sakusa’s words continue to run through his mind.

_ Sometimes these things require a blind leap of faith. _

How terrifying.

Shaking his head, Suna rounds the corner onto a new block and finds himself walking towards a string of brightly decorated tents. His curiosity compels him to investigate, and he quickly figures out that he has walked into the middle of a pop-up market.

_ Might as well check it out _ , he thinks, merging with the foot traffic in front of the stalls.

He spends the next twenty minutes perusing the offerings of the market; it’s a nice distraction for a while. But said distraction is short-lived, as all of his troubling thoughts come rushing back when he reaches the last stall of the row.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Suna goes to pick up the item that had stopped him in his tracks: a red-and-black Chinese finger trap. As his fingers slide over the interwoven bamboo, old memories resurface in his mind, and he smiles sadly.

“Are you looking to buy that?”

Suna snaps out of his daze, looking up at the elderly shop owner standing in front of him. And he’s not quite sure what it is, but some indescribable urge inside him makes him say, “Yes.”

A few minutes later, he is walking away from the market with the bamboo toy in hand. As he resumes his journey home, he fiddles with the trap absentmindedly, only to look down after a while and find his fingers stuck. Suna tugs at his fingers lightly, feeling the trap tighten as he pulls. He continues toying with the trap as his mind wanders, and the harder he tries to pull his fingers away, the more the trap constricts; it’s as if the trap were doing everything in its power to keep his fingers connected.

Suna’s hands still momentarily, and he thinks maybe his bond with Osamu had been a lot like a Chinese finger trap.

When they were close, it had somehow felt comforting and scary at the same time, like the calm before the storm or a trap ready to be sprung. Then when he walked away, the trap had activated, its hold on his heart tightening with every step he took. And he had been suffocating ever since.

* * *

“‘Samu, what are we doing here? We said we were going to study today.”

“Sorry, detour!” Osamu grinned, pulling Suna towards a toy shop a couple blocks away from Inarizaki. He pulled open the door and gestured for Suna to enter first as he explained, “It’s ‘Tsumu and my birthday next week, and we always get each other something. But he’s been gettin’ on my nerves a little more than usual lately, so I thought it’d be funny to give him a gag gift.”

“Ah, so this is you dragging me into your revenge plot.”

“You enjoy seein’ ‘Tsumu struggle just as much as I do, Rin. Don’t even try to lie.” Osamu lightly shoved Suna’s shoulder, and the two dissolved into laughter.

“Okay, fine,” Suna acknowledged, smiling, “What kind of gag gift are you looking for?”

“Not sure yet.” Venturing down the nearest aisle, Osamu scanned the selection of toys for a few seconds before he paused. Picking up a small bamboo contraption, he turned to Suna. “Woah, what’s this? Do you know?”

Suna studied it for a second. “It’s a Chinese finger trap.”

“A finger trap? How does it work?”

“It traps your fingers.”

“Wow, I would have never guessed. Thank you. Totally get it now.” Osamu retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rolling his eyes, Suna grabbed the trap out of Osamu’s hands. “Here. I’ll just show you,” he said, sticking Osamu’s index finger into one end and his own into the other. “Okay, now try to get your finger out.”

Osamu eyed him warily. “Just… in any way?”

“Take your best shot.”

“Alright. I mean, it looks simple enough.” Osamu inspected the trap for a second before starting to pull his finger away.

Feeling the trap tighten, his eyes widened in panic. He yanked more aggressively this time, and the trap clamped down abruptly on both boys’ fingers.

“Ow! ‘Samu! Stop!”

“Shit, sorry, Rin!”

“You idiot,” Suna sighed, shaking his head, “You can’t just get scared and try to force yourself free. That would just hurt both of us.”

Osamu looked up at him helplessly. “What do I do then?”

“Instead of pulling away, we have to do the opposite and bring our fingers closer together.” Suna took a step towards Osamu, grabbing Osamu’s hand with his free one and gently pushing their index fingers inwards. As promised, the trap relaxed, and Suna slid their fingers out, rubbing his own to ease the lingering soreness. “See? Now, we’re free.”

“Huh…” Osamu stared at the trap, a curious look in his eyes.

“It’s a little counterintuitive I guess…” Suna murmured as he glanced over at the other toys on the shelf.

“No, no, I get it. It’s like…” Osamu thought for a second before his eyes lit up. “It’s like how in life, sometimes you have to embrace what’s scary in order to not be afraid anymore.”

Suna turned back to Osamu, ready to tease him for saying something so sentimental. But the moment his gaze settled on Osamu’s face, he found himself completely lost in the other’s eyes. Time seemed to stop, and suddenly all Suna could think about was how beautiful Osamu looked with his face illuminated in excitement.

He was still frozen when Osamu spoke up again. “Rin?”

“Ah, uh, yeah. ‘Samu, about what you just said…” Suna said, clearing his throat nervously. He needed to change the subject. Plastering a smirk on his face, he continued, “Was that sentence even grammatically correct? I got the gist, but it sounded a little wonky.”

Osamu’s mouth dropped open. “‘Scuse me?”

“Come on, ‘Samu, you’re never going to pass Literature this way. ‘Tsumu’s already been looking smug because he got put in the class above us. You can give him any more ammunition.”

“Rin!” Osamu sputtered, “How could you say that?” And Suna broke out into laughter, barely dodging Osamu’s elbow.

After shooting one last glare at Suna, Osamu grins down at the finger trap. “Anyways, I’m definitely gettin’ this for ‘Tsumu. If I was spooked, he’ll be terrified.”

With that, he turned to go pay for the toy, leaving Suna alone in the aisle to try to cage the butterflies in his stomach.

* * *

Suna’s still fiddling with the bamboo toy as he turns the corner onto the street of his apartment, walking past a renovated storefront that he has never seen before. He’s just about passed it when something catches his eye. A small logo in the corner of a poster. The logo for Onigiri Miya.

His breath catches in his throat. Taking a couple steps back, he examines the poster in its entirety. His eyes first find the words  _ New Branch Opening Soon _ before they come to rest on an almost life-size image of Osamu, a plate of onigiri in hand.

Osamu’s hair is darker, and he’s visibly older, but Suna still recognizes the trademark easy smile spread across his face.  _ He looks good _ , Suna thinks,  _ Successful. Happy.  _ He smiles sadly. _ Maybe he even has a family. _

His thoughts continue to wander. As his eyes trace the curves on Osamu’s face, he allows himself to reminisce, to think about the boy who had played such a pivotal role in his life for so long, to remember the good times, the arguments, the pain. And by the time he has finally run out of thoughts, he feels like he’s stood there for hours. Gripping the cylindrical trap tighter, he readies himself to leave.

“Suna?”

He freezes. He knows that voice.

“Suna, that you?”

It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in four years.

Slowly, Suna turns away from the smiling face on the poster and finds himself staring into an identical set of eyes.

“...Osamu?”

“Yeah,” the now dark-haired man across from him answers, “Hey.”

Suna swallows. “Hi.”

“I, uh, see you found my new storefront.”

Suna glances over his shoulder at the poster again. “Yeah, I guess it’s on my way home from practice.” He looks back. “Congratulations, Osamu. Opening up a new branch is huge.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Osamu says, studying the ad, “I already have a couple other branches in smaller towns.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“S’okay, I didn’t expect you to.”

Suna shifts his weight, searching for something— _ anything _ —to break the silence. “I almost killed your brother at practice today. Actually there have been a few close calls so far.”

Osamu lets out a dry laugh. “Not surprised. Poor Aran. He thought he was free after he graduated a year before us.” His eyes meet Suna’s. “You look well, though.”

“The National Team’s been a great experience. EJP, too. I guess I’m grateful for where I am.”

“Good, you should be happy.” And silence fills the air again.

Suna’s still racking his brain for something to say when Osamu’s gaze drifts to the toy in Suna’s hands.

“What’cha got there…” His question fades out as the realization hits him, and Suna can tell by the strained look on his face that he’s thinking about that day at the toy store.

That day ten years ago before Osamu quit volleyball and before Suna’s fears took control. That day when everything was simpler, and they were just Suna and Osamu, and all that mattered that was that they were best friends who enjoyed each other’s company.

“I, um, just saw someone selling these on my way home. Something made me buy it, I guess.”

Osamu nods, and for a moment, Suna thinks he sees a slight grimace flash across the other’s face. But it’s quickly gone, replaced by a careful smile as Osamu remarks, “Good times, huh?”

“Yeah, good times.” Unbelievably good times. And it’s now, face-to-face with Osamu for the first time in five years, that he finally allows himself to think: did he make a mistake?

He had been so sure at the time that he was choosing pain to avoid an even worse loss. He had told himself that he was sparing both of them, setting them on better paths in the long run. Healthier, balanced paths, without the extreme highs and lows, without the risks.

But also without the benefits.

It’s now that Suna realizes he had been deluding himself this entire time. He wasn’t sparing them. No, he had just run away.

Suna glances down at the bamboo contraption in his hands, and teenage Osamu’s words ring in his ears.

_ Sometimes you have to embrace what’s scary in order to not be afraid. _

Taking a deep breath as if to suck the courage into his lungs, Suna looks up. “Osamu, I…” He falters.

Osamu frowns, his brows furrowing slightly. “You what?” he asks, and Suna almost laughs at how the response mirrors his own reaction to Osamu’s confession all those years ago.

But now prompted for a reply, he’s at a loss for words, and his gaze falls again. What is he even supposed to say?  _ I miss you? I fucked up? Leaving was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve just now realized it? _

He settles for “I’m sorry.”

“...I’m sorry, too.”

Suna’s head snaps up. “What? You don’t have to be sorry for anything.”

“No, I do.” Osamu pauses before continuing, “I’m sorry that I made you doubt us. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t convince you I loved you enough to never let anything come between us.”

“Stop, Osamu. It wasn’t you,” Suna interjects, “It was my fault. I ran away. I got scared. I gave up on us. I gave up on us before there even was an us.” He steadies himself before speaking again. “But I know now that I made a mistake. If I could go back, I would take the chance. I would choose us.”

His eyes lock onto Osamu’s face, searching for a reaction, but Osamu’s unreadable. Maybe it’s because of the adrenaline in Suna’s veins or maybe it’s because it’s been so long that they’ve forgotten how to read each other. Suna has no idea what Osamu’s thinking, and it scares him.

But Suna’s done running from fear, so he stands tall and waits for a response.

After what seems like hours, Osamu speaks, his voice audibly pained, “Suna… why are you tellin’ me this?”

“Because… because I miss you. And because I didn’t take a chance on us before, but I want to now. That is, if you also do.”

Osamu just stares for a few seconds before sighing, “You hurt me a lot, you know? It took me so long just to get myself functionin’ again after you walked out of my life. And you did it so casually, too, like it meant nothing to you.”

Suna’s heart sinks, and he feels himself deflating. “I know, I’m sorry. I was selfish back then, and I didn’t even consider how much I had hurt you. You don’t need to say it, Osamu, I won’t bother you aga—”

“But,” Osamu counters, the tiniest of smiles pulling at the corners of his mouth, “But, you also gave me some of my most cherished memories out of my 25 years of life. Sure, I was broken as hell for a bit. But as I healed, I came to understand you. And I think I came to forgive you as well.”

Suna almost laughs at the irony. “That’s kind of funny. The more I thought about it and the more I ‘healed,’ the less I understood myself and the choices I made.”

“Well you don’t trust yerself like I do. You never have.”

“You trust me? After all this time, after I walked out of your life, you still trust me?”

“I tried really hard not to,” Osamu admits, “I wanted so badly to be able to say, ‘Fuck you,’ and move on with my life. But at the end of the day, it wasn’t that simple. You were basically my life for six years. A bond like that ain’t buried that easily, no matter how hard I tried.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is… I’ve missed you, too, Rintarou.”

Despite having been the one to say it first, Suna’s in disbelief. “What does this mean? Does this mean you want to try?”

“This means… that we should start fresh. For now at least. Friends?”

“‘Friends?’ Are we back in high school?” Suna finally lets himself laugh, “But yes, friends.”

Osamu smiles, and Suna’s mind is transported back to his first day at Inarizaki when that same carefree smile had first changed his life.

Holding out his hand, Osamu simply says, “Hey, I’m Miya Osamu. Pleased to meet’cha.”

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Suna Rintarou,” Suna grins, shaking the other’s hand in greeting.

Then with hands still clasped, they take off down the sidewalk, walking into the beginning of a whole new future.

* * *

Time seems to fly by after that fateful day (as it tends to do when you’re having fun). Before Suna knows it, he’s slipping into a new red jersey in a rowdy locker room, ready to take on a whole new challenge.

The Olympics. He’s at the Olympics. Actually not just “at.”

He’s about to represent his country on the most important stage there is; it’s an opportunity like no other. But he knows it’s also a completely new and unfamiliar stage, so Suna braces for his usual pre-performance jitters to hit.

Nothing.

He smiles to himself. He should have known. Suna hadn’t felt anxious in quite some time.

And that’s because he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Hey, Rin.” The greeting is calm and quiet in comparison to the chatter of his teammates, but to Suna, it rises above all of the noise.

He feels a hand slip into his and turns to come face-to-face with his favorite smile in the world, one that never fails to mesmerize him.

“‘Samu, you made it.”

“Of course! I told’ja I’d meet you here!”

Suna laughs. He never doubted for a second. “I know, I know,” he says, “Did you manage to set up the booth on your own? I can probably come help for a minute if you need.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I brought some volunteers to help me out today, so we were able to manage.”

“It’s really cool that Onigiri Miya is catering the Olympic volleyball matches. Must be a lot of work for you, though.”

“It’s not too bad. Plus, I gotta take advantage of the opportunity to earn a little extra money when I can,” Osamu chuckles, “Especially so I can afford to visit my boyfriend more often.”

“Boyfriend, hm? I wonder who that might be.”

“Oh, he’s super handsome. Tall, confident, not to mention amazing at volleyball. Though he is a bit of an asshole at times,” Osamu says, an impish grin on his face.

“Is he? He sounds like a great person to me. You must feel so lucky.”

At this, Osamu’s grin softens. “I do.” And then he leans in to plant a kiss on Suna’s lips.

“Hey, lovebirds! Get a room!” Atsumu’s voice rings out.

Suna pulls away and shoots a glare at the other twin across the room. “You’re one to talk, ‘Tsumu. You’ve been all over Sakusa since we arrived.”

“I—That’s—”

“Sorry, Suna, Osamu,” Sakusa cuts off a sputtering Atsumu with a hand on his shoulder, “He’s just a bit antsy today. Don’t mind him.”

“Oh, I never do,” Suna remarks, dismissing Atsumu’s scowl with a playful smirk of his own.

Osamu laughs in response, and Suna can’t help but admire the sound. Shaking his head lightly, Osamu then turns to Suna. “I dunno why ‘Tsumu even gets nervous. We all know those nerves go out the window the moment he hears the crowd’s cheers. And he always plays great.”

“Don’t ask me. I’ve never been able to fully understand Atsumu. I don’t know how you and Sakusa do it.”

“Well it’s a twin thing for me. Sakusa… I dunno, maybe he’s superhuman.” Osamu pauses for a second. “How ‘bout you?” he finally asks, “I know you usually feel a little uneasy before matches, especially in a new place.”

“Not anymore. Thanks to you.” Suna gently caresses Osamu’s cheek, and the look they share at that moment conveys more than words ever could.

“Alright everyone! You have five more minutes!” yells the coach from the doorway, “After that, I expect you all on the court warming up!”

“Looks like that’s my cue to leave. I should go help the volunteers prep anyway. Good luck, Rin! I’ll be right there with you!” Osamu leans in quickly, his lips grazing Suna’s cheek before he turns and jogs out of the locker room.

Smiling, Suna lets his mind wander for a moment. As his hand reaches up to brush the spot where Osamu’s lips had been, he recalls the saying from his childhood that had once haunted him.

_ How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. _

The words hadn’t changed, but his perspective of them had.

And when he later walks out onto the main court and locks eyes with an immensely proud Osamu, he wonders how he could have ever been stupid enough to mistake luck for misfortune.

Their relationship is still in its early stages, but Suna’s already completely and utterly captivated. Most importantly, he’s not at all scared of what may unfold.

_ Hello to our future _ , Suna muses. And for the first time ever, he doesn’t worry about goodbye.


End file.
